


Sing until I live again.

by jellyfic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi as Orpheus, Kenma as Eurydice, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, akakenweek2021, crumbs of sunaosa as hades and persephone, if you know the story this does not end well so beware, poetry kind of idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfic/pseuds/jellyfic
Summary: The story of one desperate soul, walking to the underworld to save his love.The story of Akaashi and Kenma, through the love of Orpheus and Eurydice.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma
Kudos: 7





	Sing until I live again.

_“Yet the story of Orpheus, it occurs to me, is not just about the desire of the living to resuscitate the dead but about the ways in which the dead drag us along into their shadowy realm because we cannot let them go. So we follow them into the Underworld, descending, descending, until one day we turn and make our way back.”_

– Meghan O'Rourke

  
  


Music is a feeling, a sensation that you feel more than you hear, deep in your lungs and your body, finding its place in your heart. It takes residency, beating in unison, reminding your muscles every day, constantly, that you loved the melody once, and will keep on loving it until the blood in your veins no longer flows. 

Poems are the notes, the sounds that transfigure the words, that push our body to move slowly, that sing the tones rhythmically. They give a sense to the melody, they give purpose to the feeling, reminding our brain every day, constantly, that you once understood the rhymes, and will keep on relating to them. 

Akaashi was a music sheet. 

A piece of art that people loved, admired, but never truly understood, despite trying again and again, despite searching between his lines for his deepest secrets. 

Akaashi never truly understood why his music moved the world itself. He was doing nothing more than feeling, nothing more than singing and playing the melody that his heart kept captive. He would have never thought his art would have such an impact on people, and yet, here he was. 

He was grateful though, to know that his music had helped so many people. So if he could express his deepest feelings, all the while being good to his surroundings, he would do it without hesitation. He didn’t have anything else, just him, his lyre, his words and his voice. 

Until he found his interpret. 

He was breathtaking, standing among the people, looking at him with enamoured eyes and a small smile. Akaashi crossed his eyes. Forgot how to breathe. And fell in love. 

Kenma. 

They had felt the music dancing in their hearts, heard the melody flowing through their body and immediately understood that magic was way more than wonders and lies – it was crossing someone’s path unexpectedly and knowing with a single glance that they will love each other until the very end of the line.

And now that the music sheet had found his interpret, the concert of their life could start. 

They waltzed together, promising forever. 

They stayed lovers, living happily ever after. 

Until the music stopped. 

A music paper without his interpret was nothing but silence. 

He would cry to the trees, sing to the sky and curse the living. The world answered him. It had the same voice as Kenma, slow, low. It was begging him to keep on searching, to come for him, to save him. It was pleading Akaashi to bring them together again, that they still had an eternity to live hand in hand. 

And who was he to refuse such a plea? 

So he walked down the world with nothing more than his lyre and his voice, bracing the darkness searching for the powerful couple. He followed the voice ringing in his ear, the only promise of better days with no fears. He found them sitting next to each other, inspiring both fear and warmth, admiration. 

“How dare you adventure yourself in our realm”, one had said, piercing eyes, pale lips pursing in a thin line. 

“How brave of you,” the kinder one smiled, “to come here for a loved one.” 

Suna Rintarou and Miya Osamu were as impressive as ever, and Akaashi envied their love, the power of it. He wanted to feel it again, he wanted to hold Kenma’s hands between his and feel his body on his skin. 

“I have come to bring back my heart to the living world.” 

Suna scoffed, squinting at him. Akaashi knew that his demand was inconceivable, who was he to ask for such favour? But the cries of Kenma kept echoing. He could not ignore them. 

“Let’s hear what he has to say,” Osamu said, his eyes were mischief, daring, curious, but his smile was kind, comforting. 

So Akaashi did the only thing that he could; he sang. He poured out his hurt, his despair, screaming out his lungs until he was out of air. He cried. He mourned. He begged for his love, that deserved to remain above. And rocks and gods were moved. And tears and smiles were shared. And Akaashi stood there, empty, completely at their mercy. 

“You shall be reunited, we hope that your love will live and know better days than ours,” Osamu said, smiling softly at Suna, who smiled back, rolling his eyes. 

“Be careful though,” sharp tong and sweet voice warned, “Turn back to look at him before sunlight, and he shall disappear with no chance of coming back.” 

And so Akaashi walked, with nothing more than his lyre and his voice, heart filled with hope. He braved the darkness once more, head replaying the words. 

Don’t turn back. 

Wait for sunlight. 

Don’t turn back. 

Wait for sunlight. 

Don’t turn back. 

Green and piercing eyes, analysing him. Serpent-like.

Wait for sunlight. 

Grey and mischievous eyes, observing him. Fox-like. 

Akaashi suddenly heard footsteps behind him, and he had to make himself violence not to turn away. For every step he would make, he would hear one behind him, chasing him, trying to catch up. 

Don’t turn back. 

Two small smiles. They seemed genuine, but they were evil, they were mocking. The gods had mocked him, made fun of his silly love compared to their own. They listened to him mourn and cry; an entertainment for two powerful figures like them. He had been tricked, Kenma was behind him, and if he wasn’t turning around before daylight, they would never see each other again. 

Wait for sunlight. 

Akaashi could see it, two feet away. He was drawn to it, its brightness warm and hot compared to the shadows. He stopped, gazing at the light, thinking, thinking, thinking…

He turned back. 

Kenma was there, waiting for him. He was smiling. A smile that made Akaashi’s blood turn cold – too beautiful to be true, like it had always been, but sad. Akaashi needed nothing else but Kenma’s gaze and smile to know. Hurt, grateful, expecting, moved. 

The blonde had guessed that Akaashi would have turned away; it was in his nature, after all, he was made to talk and sing with emotions, Akaashi was not meant to think. Thinking led to disasters. Kenma knew it, and his smile showed how disappointed but how in love he was. 

Akaashi’s heart stopped beating, arms reaching. But he only grasped the void, as Kenma disappeared, going back to the underworld. He stayed here for a long time, blinking, processing. When he turned again and reached the lights, the sun felt cold as ice.

Akaashi mourned his other half, he cried his death, singing in agony. Never had the world heard such a heartbreaking melody. 


End file.
